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Snider an' the P'fessor are there now, they hired the whole island to 'stablish the Comp'ny on." He stopped the car for some passengers, two women and two little girls who had been picking flowers beside the road. One of the women commenced to ask questions and I did not get much chance to talk with him again until we came to the end of the line, at the causeway leading to Bailey's Harbor.
Mabel Rorebeck'd rather dance with me," he continued serenely, "than anybody; and she said she was awful afraid you'd ast her. But I ain't goin' to dance with Mabel after all, because this morning she sent me a note about her uncle died last night and P'fessor Bartet'll have to find me a partner after I get there. Anyway I bet you haven't got any sling and I bet your partner's Baby Rennsdale!"
Bust up! Yes, the excursion went over again this afternoon, on the 'May Queen' here, an' an' Gran'father went too, an' while Mr. Snider was doin' the 'speriment Orlando Noyes an' two other fellers pried up a place on the wharf with a crow-bar, an' they found the P'fessor down there, he was up to some monkey business, an' they say the whole thing is a fake! Gee! An' that aint all, neither.
They said he was a p'fessor in a college, and could talk all kinds of languages, and knowed everything. And that ain't the wust. They said he could VOTE when he was at home. Well, that let me out. Thinks I, what is the country a-coming to?
"That news about the way that old stranger has been treated has spread all around, and the camps are up. They are piling in from everywhere, and are going to lynch the P'fessor. Constable Harris is in a dead funk, and has telephoned the sheriff. Come along!" We started on a run.
"Didn't no one live there till 'bout a month ago. Then those two gen'lemen came, the P'fessor an' Mr. Snider. The house had been empty for a year an' a half, ever since old man Rogers died. He was the last of the fam'ly, an' his folks have owned the island an' lived in the house ever since the first one of 'em come over in the 'Mayflower' or with Christopher C'lumbus, or somebody.
They've arrested Mr. Snider an' the P'fessor, they're the burglars that have been burglin' houses over on Little Duck. One of the fellers with Orlando was a special perlice an' they went through the house an' found a whole lot of spoons an' things that they stole outer Mis' Ellis' house. They say the P'fessor aint a p'fessor at all, he just got outer State's Prison 'bout a month ago!"
They said he was a p'fessor in a college, and could talk all kinds of languages, and knowed everything. And that ain't the wust. They said he could VOTE when he was at home. Well, that let me out. Thinks I, what is the country a-coming to?
Lounging in the doorway, the near-vivisectionists sipped licorice water alternately and conversed. "I bet some of our smallpox medicine would fix ole P'fessor Bartet all right!" quoth Penrod. "I wish he'd come along and ask us for some." "We could tell him it was lickrish water," added Sam, liking the idea. "The two bottles look almost the same."
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